Have Yourself A Merry Little Fellowship
by Enelya
Summary: A weird and wacky Christmas with our favourite weird and wacky Fellowship. Highly unorthodox. You'll never think about Christmas in the same way again... CHAPTER 2 IS UP!
1. Of shortbread and nativity plays

Disclaimer: I will own LOTR when my skin turns purple and the sky rains green carrots.

Seems everyone else is doing a Christmas special so I thought sod it, I'll do one too. Same living arrangements as in How to teach a Dwarf to Swim, read that for more information. No real plot, just Christmas with the Fellowship which is rather warped.

Rating: PG-13 just to be on the safe side. Slight swearing, unorthodox Christmas festivities, strange shortbread and the token random weirdness you can always expect in my fics. Feedback much appreciated, I don't have much else to do.

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"Deck the halls with bows of holly, falalalalalalalala, 'tis the season to be jolly, falalalalalalalala," Legolas sang at the top of his voice, ignoring the shouts and abuse directing his way by the rest of the Fellowship because in his view it was a perfectly reasonable thing to do at 7am on a Saturday morning.

The elf slid down the stairs and down into the living room. "Good morning Gandalf," he said cheerfully. Gandalf grunted and went back to watching the morning cartoons, he was not a morning wizard. Now humming the tune of Spongebob Squarepants, Legolas went into the kitchen to check on the Christmas cake and pudding and added some more brandy and rum into the mixtures, before looking around quickly to make sure no one was watching and taking a large swig of rum himself. They had never been able to discover the reason, but every Christmas Legolas developed a profound fondness for rum and for saying 'aye' instead of yes. And then there were the miniature pirate ships he collected obsessively…

He went outside to check if there was any mail and was met with the complete and utter lack of snow. Merry and Pippin were going to be disappointed. He opened the letterbox and retrieved a large bundle of Christmas cards and walked to the house.

When he got inside he found that the rest of the Fellowship had got up and were rummaging around in the fridge for something to eat. "Snow?" Merry and Pippin asked hopefully. Legolas shook his head and the two hobbits looked crestfallen. Frodo had overheard the conversation and handed them a loaf of bread, the butter and two knives. The two hobbits went to sit on the couch and drown their woes in vast amounts of bread and butter.

"Any cards?" Frodo asked as he saw the mail.

Legolas sorted through the letters. "One from Celeborn and Galadriel… one from Haldir… one from Elrond…"

"Do they all say I'm rich and you're not, suckers?"

"No, Aragorn, they don't. And there's one from the community centre—" he didn't get any further because Frodo snatched it out of his hand.

"I'll look after this."

The others shrugged and Legolas looked at the last letter with confusion. "I don't think we know anyone called the Dursleys… must be next door's." He went out side and stuck his head over the side fence. "Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"We've got one of yours again."

"Oh, thanks dude." Harry looked at the return address. "If it's from these guys again don't bother. They… er…"

"If it's from relatives then we know all about that stuff. I should go get breakfast before Aragorn eats all the muesli."

"Merry Christmas dude."

"And a Pippin New Year."

"What?"

"Never mind."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The hobbits were gathered secretly in the cupboard under the stairs, looking at the letter. "Let's open it!" Frodo opened the letter and they crowded around to read it. And began to grin.

"AragornLegolasGimli, we have something to tell you." The others began to make wildly inaccurate guesses.

"You're pregnant?"

"You're gay?"

"You're the ones who were singing Christmas songs at 7am this morning?"

Frodo rolled his eyes. "No. We're in the Nativity play!"

"Nativity play?"

"You know, the one the community centre puts on every year!"

"Wow, that's great! What are you guys?"

Frodo consulted the letter. "Sam's Joseph, Pippin's a shepherd, Merry's one of the three kings and I'm…" he look at it in disbelief. "I'm the Virgin Mary."

Merry looked at Pippin. "I'm a king and you're a shepherd! Beat that!"

Pippin stuck his tongue out. "I'm a shepherd so I get to eat lamb every day! Beat that!"

Merry couldn't think of anything to say to that so he stuck his tongue out too.

Frodo continued to read the letter. "Its says that there's practices every Saturday at 9:30." He looked at the clock. "Ten minutes to get ready. TEN MINUTES TO GET READY?! Guys, get dressed, grab something to eat, hurry!"

Exactly seven minutes and fifty-two seconds later all four hobbits were dressed and eating their breakfast standing up. "Aragorn, can we pleeeeeeease get a lift?" The hobbits put on their cutest faces.

"What? Argh… no… not the cute faces… dammit… how can I say no when they're doing their cute thing? Alright."

"Thanks Aragorn." The hobbits piled into Aragorn's Landrover. Aragorn reversed sharply and with a squeal of brakes, the car sped off. Legolas, Gimli and Gandalf waited until they had disappeared down the street before cracking and laughing so hard they got stomach cramps.

"Frodo as the Virgin Mary?" Gimli gasped.

"Just wait till he sees the costume."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

After dropping the hobbits at the centre, Aragorn wandering around the shops looking for something to do. He walked past the supermarket and remembered that Frodo had been going to make shortbread but Frodo was at the play practice now. Aragorn was about to keep walking past when he had an idea. He disappeared into the supermarket.

Two hours later the hobbits arrived back at the house to find Legolas and Gimli wrapping Christmas presents. Or rather attempting to wrap Christmas presents, none of them could remember the last time they'd had new wrapping paper and so the presents that were already wrapped resembled packages of small patchwork quilts.

"Where's Aragorn?"

"Kitchen. He came in about an hour ago and he was acting all strange, and now he's locked himself in the kitchen and we heard some swearing a while ago."

Frodo looked homicidal. "If he messes with my cooking I'll kill him."

Just then the kitchen door was opened. Aragorn walked out, covered head to toe in flour but looking extremely pleased with himself. He was carrying a tray from which came interesting smells. "Guess what I made!"

"What?"

"Shortbread! There's plenty for everybody." Aragorn proffered the tray.

"Cool, shortbread!" The hobbits, Legolas and Gimli each took a piece of shortbread and bit into it. Aragorn watched their expressions. "It's, er, good!"

"Yeah, really distinctive flavour!"

"Never had something like this before!"

"You should start cleaning up now if you want to go carol singing."

"Yes, that's a good idea. I won't be long." Aragorn beamed and went back into the kitchen. The rest of the Fellowship waited until the door was closed before hastily spitting out the shortbread and scraping their tongues. "Hands up for not letting him within ten metres of the kitchen."

All of those who had tried the shortbread put up their hands.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"So you all have scarves and gloves?"

"Yes Legolas."

"And you have promised on the salvation of your share of the Christmas foods that none of you will do anything illegal? That includes not wrecking other people's Christmas displays."

There was a "Yes Legolas" from everybody, although Merry and Pippin had to be poked to make them promise.

Legolas relaxed. He was pretty sure that the threat of no Christmas food would make the hobbits behave, but he had convinced Gimli to go with them just in case. "Off you go then, have fun."

The hobbits and Gimli disappeared down the street. Legolas and Aragorn sat watching tv with Gandalf. Several minutes later there was a knock at the door. Aragorn got up to answer it, and was confronted with the hobbits and Gimli singing Christmas carols with great enthusiasm.

"What are you doing?"

"We're singing!"

"This is your own house!"

"We can still carol sing! Care to make a donation?" Pippin waved the collection tin under Aragorn's nose.

"You're not getting money out of me that easily. Go sing somewhere else." Aragorn slammed the door shut.

"I told you it wouldn't work."

"Well okay, it didn't work this time because we had our normal clothes on. So we take off all our warm stuff and rip our clothes and roll around in the snow a bit and we can pose as beggars! He'll give us money for sure."

"No Pippin, let's go try somewhere else."

"Or maybe if we get hippie clothes and say we need petrol money…"

"Pippin, just drop it."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A/N: For those of you who are wondering, Pippin's rather silly ways of getting money are not real. If you want to pull something like that yourself, people aren't that stupid and I won't bail you out when the police stick you in the lockup.

I think that's all for this chapter. Merry Christmas and a Pippin New Year. You can show your Christmas spirit by reviewing. Everybody who reviews gets… er… free samples of Aragorn's shortbread? Maybe not…

~Enelya


	2. Of snow and turkeys

Another chapter! Because it's Christmas. Because you guys are the best. Read and enjoy. ^_^.

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Several hours later, five cold but happy carol singers came back to the house. They agreed that it had business had been good, although 'God Rest Ye Merry Gentlehobbits' had mostly been met with blank looks.

"We have money!" Pippin's job of the day had been completed. Frodo and Sam were giving a full account to Legolas and Aragorn, who were only giving them half their attention as they searched for the long-lost christmas tree decorations.

"And then we sang something different…"

"Let's hear it then," said Aragorn, if only to make them stop asking questions every two seconds.

Frodo and Sam linked arms and started to sing, swaying in time to the music. Every note was spot on, every word perfectly clear. Two syllables in their audience stopped what they were doing and looked at them with increasing confusion.

"That's the theme song for the Portuguese soccer team."

"So?"

"It's not exactly very christmassy."

"Well, not many people around here speak Portuguese—"

"Except you guys—"

"And it's christmassy if you sing it like a christmas carol. See, listen—" Frodo and Sam started to sing again.

"Okay, okay, we get the point," Legolas said hastily.

"We did sing something else."

"Go on."

Frodo and Sam started another song complete with hand actions.

"You know, until now I never thought anyone would put the time and effort into translating 'I'm a little teapot' into Norwegian."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

'Twas the extreme early morning on a day before Christmas when…

"Snow! SNOW! Omigod! Snowsnowsnowsnowsnow!"

"What? Where?" Merry and Pippin rushed to the window and saw a thick white layer of snow. They started jumping on the beds, regardless of their occupants. Sam and Frodo tried to pretend that they were still asleep, but it gets rather hard when there is a hobbit jumping on your bed yelling "SNOW!" in your ear, so after a few minutes gave up and began jumping on their own beds and joined in with the yelling of "SNOW!", before going on to renditions of various carols.

Needless to say a troop of tap-dancing elephants in a glassware shop would have made less noise and it wasn't long before Gimli, Legolas and Aragorn burst into the room wielding a broom, a saucepan and a table lamp and looking rather homicidal. "Why are you jumping on your beds singing 'I'm dreaming of a white Christmas' at the top of your voices at 5am in the bloody morning?"

"Look outside!" There was a wooden 'clunk', a metallic 'bong' and a ceramic crash as the inquisitors dropped what they were holding and rushed over to the window.

"SNOW!" There was then a large blockade as everyone tried to get out the doorway first and became hopeless stuck. A few minutes later they finally managed to get through and disappeared into their rooms to get ready. Scarves, gloves, coats, beanies, mittens, balaclavas and snowshoes were produced and donned. From a chest in Gimli's room came hundreds of tiny picks, shovels, engravers, files and a camera. Having lived through thousands of winters, the Fellowship had making models in the snow down to a fine art and seemed to get better as time went on. There was a competition that had been going on for a century or so for who could make the most lifelike sculpture and the competitive spirit was running higher than the average temperature of the Gobi desert in summer.

Each member collected their individual toolkit and got to work. This year they were working in groups: Merry and Pippin were putting together a collection of valkerie sculptures that were very well endowed in the bosom department, Frodo and Sam had decided to make the entire map of Middle-earth, and Gimli, Aragorn and Legolas were being very secretive about their model but claimed that it would 'bring back fond memories'. Gandalf maintained that he was too old to be out in the snow all day but suddenly regained his youth and vigor when told that the winners got first pick of the alcoholic chocolates.

The sun was low in the western sky when the teams stepped back to admire their handiwork.

"Nice detail on that dress, Pip."

"Thanks Frodo, I like the way you've done the Misty Mountains."

Legolas, Aragorn and Gimli had carefully covered their model with a cloth, and when it was their turn they unveiled it with a flourish. The others stared in awe. The city of Minas Tirith lay in a corner of their front yard, a perfect replica if not for the fact that it was only 1 metre high. Passersby 'oohed' and 'aahed' and mobile phones were whipped out and used to their full potential. Soon a large crowd had gathered and the Fellowship had to rig a fence up to prevent the models from being squashed. Several tv crews had set up, and there was even a radio commentator. Gandalf was the official photographer and lost no time in taking many arty pictures with his black-and-white camera. By the time everyone had stopped looking and had gone on their way it was half past eleven and everyone was ready to sleep, when Harry appeared in his front yard and gave them some exciting news. "Dudes! You're, like, on tv! Channel seven!"

"What? Quick, someone get a tape!" The Fellowship made a mad rush into the house and by some kind act of a higher being, managed to find a tape and get the recorder to work in time to tape themselves. Sure enough, there were several shots of their models with various members waving in the background. When the report had finished, they sat dumbfounded.

"I can't believe it. We've managed to get onto tv for the right reasons!" After centuries of persuading law enforcers not to give Merry, Pippin or Gandalf the death sentence, the other members of the Fellowship, especially Legolas and Aragorn because they had done most of the talking, felt very proud of themselves.

"Okay, and we now have the results! The Fellowship crowded around Frodo as he opened the letter. "And the winners of this year's snow model competition are… Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli, for their outstanding replica of Minas Tirith in its glory days!" The winners beamed. Gandalf, Merry and Pippin looked very morose.

There was a loud thump.

"That came from the front yard!" They rushed outside to find some snow had slid off a tree and landed on the winning model. Aragorn's lower lip trembled, Legolas blinked very hard and Gimli sniffled twice.

"We'll… er… just go down to the… er… shops… and… er… get some… er… eggs for the christmas pudding." The three of them quickly walked off.

"And we now have Minas Tirith in the grip of an avalanche."

"I wonder if they know that you don't put eggs in Christmas puddings?" said Frodo thoughtfully.

Pippin looked startled. "You don't?"

"No, they react with the dried fruit and the whole thing turns into sherbet stuff when you serve it with custard."

Pippin looked enlightened. "So _that's_ where I've been going wrong! Hey Frodo, can I make the pudding next year? I know what I'm doing wrong now."

"Er… maybe."

Several streets away Gimli, Legolas and Aragorn halted.

"Are we out of earshot?"

"Unless they suddenly develop elvish hearing, I think so."

"Good." The three of them stopped trying to remain unmoved and dissolved into wails, sobs and moans, holding onto each other for consolation and support and creating a small puddle where they stood. People who came out of their houses to complain about the noise, but the mourners did not prove to be very communicative, whimpering "Gone…" and not much else. This continued all the way to the shops, which turned out to be closed for the night, and then all the way back to 100 metres away from the house.

"Ready?"

They all sniffed one last time in memoriam, then nodded. "Ready." They walked back to the house wearing slightly annoyed but otherwise calm expressions, but their hearts were breaking. Three pillows were going to get a thorough drenching that night.

"We're back."

"What about the eggs?"

"Shop was closed."

"That's all right, I was going to go shopping tomorrow anyway. Anything else we need?"

"Yes, the council has come to the verdict that we are not getting enough saturated fats and we need substances that contain this vital part of out diets."

"That's the most eloquent way I've ever heard someone ask for chocolate and I'm giving you credit for it, but no."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Considering how late they stayed up the previous night, all of the Fellowship woke up surprisingly early. Frodo was making himself breakfast when he noticed something was missing. The sarcastic comments… the 'ochs'… where were Legolas and Gimli? He decided that they were old enough to look after themselves and went off to do the shopping.

Frodo hummed happily to himself as he checked items off the list. Now he just had to get the turkey… he turned into the meat aisle of the supermarket and nearly ran his trolley into a shelf. He tried to convince himself that he was hallucinating, he really did. But judging from the strange looks, everybody else could see it too.

Legolas and Gimli were sitting in front of the shelf, preventing access to the turkeys. Signs had been stuck on the walls proclaiming "Save the turkeys!" and "They're animals, not food!". Frodo looked at them in disbelief. "What on earth are you doing?"

"We're the Turkey Liberation Front!" Legolas announced determinedly.

"What's that?"

"We are here to protest against the violent and immoral treatment of turkeys at Christmas!"

"But you've never had any problems with this before."

"I never knew what they went through before, then I saw pictures of where they keep them. It's immoral, it's cruel, it's disgusting… hey you!" Legolas advanced on a shopper. "Have you ever wondered what it's like to be a turkey at Christmas?"

"But these turkeys are already dead and frozen."

Legolas looked like he was about to ignore that remark when Gimli piped up, "Och, I told ye the supermarket was a bad idea. We should be going to where they keep them."

Legolas' eyes lit up. "Protesting at a turkey farm! Yes! Get me the yellow pages!"

Frodo turned to Gimli. "Why are you encouraging him?"

"Och, it's something to do, and he's going to do it whatever we say so he may as well have someone to talk to."

Legolas came back to the turkeys. "I've got the address, let's go!" The elf and dwarf packed up the chairs, collected their signs and rushed out the doors. Frodo resisted the urge to bang his head against a wall and decided to make roast pork that year, just for a change.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Frodo came home to find Aragorn making a spirited attempt to take up the whole couch. He was also devouring the alcoholic chocolates with astonishing speed. Frodo looked at him concernedly.

"Aragorn?"

No answer.

"Is something wrong?"

"No."

"There _is_ something wrong. What's the matter?"

"I hate nativity plays."

"Oh. Any reason why?"

There was a loud sniff. Frodo, seeing the ranger was in distress, sat down on the couch and patted his back in what he hoped was a comforting way. Aragorn buried his head in Frodo's shirt and began wailing. "Nativity plays suck! I've always wanted to be one of the three kings, and since I'm a king I think I can play it really well!" Frodo decided now was not the time to point out that the only thing Aragorn was king of nowadays was the sports section of the newspaper. "But I've never been a king! I always end up as a shepherd, or once I was…" (loud wails), "a sheep! And now Merry's a king in the play and he'll do great and he'll be a better king than me and I'll just be a ranger and no one will respect me and I'll end up old and ugly and alone with a beer gut…" halfway through Aragorn's depressed rant Frodo had put his arm around his shoulder and had turned the tv onto the wilderness channel. The sight of forests and jungles and weird freaky animals had a calming affect on the ranger and he accepted the tissue Frodo offered him and blew his nose, sounding like a foghorn.

"Now Aragorn, Merry might be a king in the play but we all know who the _real_ king is." Aragorn looked confused. Frodo sighed. "I mean you. Now, you're going to watch this documentary about the fjords and I'll make you a hot chocolate and a cheese and sausage sandwich just the way you like it."

"With extra mayonnaise?"

"Definitely extra mayonnaise. And next year we'll put on our own nativity play and you'll certainly get to be a king."

"Thanks Frodo." They hugged for extra happiness thoughts, which would have been fine if Merry and Pippin hadn't come home just at that moment.

The two hobbits looked at each other and grinned suggestively. "Not interrupting anything, are we?"

"You two look a little, er, busy."

"Well as a matter of fact I was just about to—" Frodo stopped when he saw their faces. "Would you two get your minds out of the gutter? If I may finish my sentence, I was just about to—"

"Pileup!" Merry and Pippin yelled as they jumped on top of them. The four of them rolled off the couch and began fighting on the floor, stopping only in a rather uncompromising position when they realised they had an audience.

"Oh, hi Sam, we were just, um…"

"I'm not going to ask."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

And you may think what you will of that last scene. Merry Christmas Eve! Although it really doesn't feel like Christmas Eve. I wonder if it will feel like Christmas eve tomorrow and then Christmas on Boxing day and then Boxing day the day after that and the day after that… sorry, I'm rambling. Merry christmas, everyone who reviews gets photos of the snow models and alcoholic chocolates.

Pippin Christmas and a Merry New Year. No, wait, wrong way round. Christmas Pippin and a New Year Merry. Darn, wrong again. Pistmas Chrippin and a… oh god, now I've got started…

I'm very, very sorry but I'm not going to be able to get the last chapter up before Christmas. I won't get it up until January because I'm going on holidays on Christmas day and I won't get back until January 2nd. So the last chapter will be fashionably late. Sorry, but it just can't be helped.

Anyways, have a very merry Christmas (no joke) and a happy New Year and all that. Have a Turkey Liberation Front sign to put under you Christmas tree. ^_^.

~Enelya


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